My dear friend Viniita has found a permanent and physical home for her nomadic book shop called Owl Cave Books. It is currently sharing a space with Little Paper Planes at 855 Valencia Street in San Francisco.
Why do I continue to read Charles Bukowski? He only ever writes about drinking, horse races, women, writing, reading, the post office, and fighting. I picked up the recently released More Notes of a Dirty Old Man and it confirmed that Bukowski is an artist who tells the truth, regardless of how it reiterates or damages his legend.
Salman Rushdie‘s 1981 masterpiece, Midnight’s Children was made into a movie. When you’re reading some books you cannot imagine how they could be movies. Especially Rushdie’s books. And not for lack of plot. Certainly not for lack of witty dialogue. Nor is there lack of heroes. No, the only reason you can’t imagine them being made into movies is because the language is so beautifully brilliant. The wordplay is inspiring. When you read Rushdie, you read a man who loves words.
But Rushdie wrote the screenplay. He rewrote the 533 pages into a two and a half hour movie. And what’s the best news after that? Rushdie himself is the narrator. So all doubts disappear. The bard has become the voice.
Almost a month ago the movie production company started an autographed book or movie poster giveaway on facebook. All you had to do was tag a friend that you would see the movie with. I did and won an autographed book!
So sometimes, soifollowjulian goes on vacation. And I never travel without a few books to read. Because that’s the greatest vacation of all: immersing yourself in a book in another state.
I visited my Aunt Eva in New Mexico last summer. It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Everything is so beautiful, so solitary, so noble. The desert’s soundtrack on a sunny day is obscenely loud in its emptiness. There are no vehicles, no phones, no planes. There are grasshoppers, bees, birds, and cattle. There’s the ever-present fear of the rattlesnake and so you hear fake sounds in bushes. You avoid holes in the arroyo. You hear the wind blow the bushes and see the tumbleweed push past. And the smell. Of dirt. Clean, non-allergenic dirt. Not that city dust that affects your allergies. Just clean dirt pounded down by the rain then dried and cracked in the sun.
On the Road is about Neal Cassady and Jack Kerouac driving across country, searching for something. It’s about their relationship with each other and the rest of the world. And it’s also about how Jack defines himself in relation to Neal and society. Jack Kerouac consciously creates a mythology through story, thought, and dialogue. Jack writes for a literary audience and to define his place in society. He uses Neal to both reflect and define himself. Jack likes the idea of being seen as a madman, he wants to be perceived as an outsider to society, to be aligned with alcoholic hobos, and defined as a hoodlum. He sees himself as an outsider that is too intelligent and wild to be understood by the common man. Continue reading →